The Amish Bride by Emma Miller Page B

two of you wouldn’t be suited for marriage. I’ve been praying a long time over this and I think
Gott
has answered my prayers. You’re the wife for me, Ellen.”
    She drew back a bit. She didn’t like being told what she should do and certainly not by Neziah. “I can’t tell Micah I won’t see him, Neziah. He was at my house first thing this morning to give me a ride to work. He’s very interested in courting me. I told my father... I told Micah I’d consider you both.”
    He stared at her for a moment, then the smallest hint of a smile appeared. “So you’re saying you
would
consider marrying me? You still care for me, don’t you?”
    This was more like the old Neziah she had always known, trying to force his opinions, his way on her. And yet, not the same. The man she had known, the man she had almost married, had not been one to talk about feelings. Anyone’s. “I’ll admit no such thing.” She felt heat rising in her cheeks, and she got up from the bench.
    “Of course you won’t. Not yet at least.” Another smile. Then he stood. “Joel! Asa! Time to go.” He turned to Ellen. “I’m going to go inside and grab the things we need. Meet you out front with the boys?”
    She nodded. Once he had gone into the store, she gathered the two little boys and then walked out to the sidewalk. Neziah joined them, carrying a paper grocery sack. The four of them walked the short distance back to the craft shop in silence.
    “I’ll get your scooter,” Neziah said when they reached his wagon. He dropped the groceries into the back. “Is it on the porch?” He didn’t sound upset with her. In fact, he sounded pleased with himself.
    Walking back to the craft store, Ellen had considered turning down Neziah’s offer of a ride home. Right now all she wanted was to be alone and think about what he had said. Neziah was in love with her? Still in love with her, according to him. Was that possible? And how did she feel about him? The truth was, she didn’t know. She definitely needed some time by herself, but refusing his ride home seemed childish. “I can get my scooter,” she said. “I want to make certain the inner door is locked, anyway.” She hurried up onto the back porch landing and then inside.
    The freezers were to the right, and she always parked her push scooter against the wall across from them. As she reached down to grab the handlebars of her scooter, her foot struck something and set it spinning away, making a loud clattering sound. It was a soda can. Apparently, someone who’d come to access the freezer space had forgotten it. Ellen tossed the can into the recycle container, went back for her scooter and pushed it out the back door.
    Neziah was just coming up the back steps. “I’ll take that.”
    He stowed the scooter in the back of the wagon and then helped her up onto the wagon seat.
    The boys were unusually well behaved on the way home. Neziah didn’t have much to say, which was fine with Ellen because she’d had quite enough honest talk with him for one day. Her mind was flying in so many directions that she had to take a breath and try to relax and enjoy the summer evening ride, listening to the familiar sounds of the mule’s hooves striking the blacktop.
    When they arrived safely at her door, she thanked him for the ice cream and the ride home. She said her goodbyes to Asa and Joel and was about to walk away when Neziah called after her, “Will I see you at the widows’ supper tomorrow night?” he asked.
    She turned back to him. “
Jah
, I’ll be helping out.”
    Normally, she would work late on Thursday evening, but the English high-schooler she’d just hired would work until closing.
    “Goot. Goot,”
Neziah repeated. “See you there, then.”
    She watched him climb into the wagon; as he headed down the driveway, he touched the brim of his hat and offered the warmest smile. It wasn’t big and full of joy like Micah’s; it was... Ellen couldn’t think how to describe